Apollo and the Cynic
by Writing Fangirl for hire
Summary: R. Grantaire lives with Courfeyrac and Marius. They take her to on of their Les Amis De ABC meetings at the Musain where she meets the Greek god Apollo in human incarnation. After she's been living with Courf and Marius for a while, Enjolras asks her to make him a painting. But will a simple painting and withdrawal problems bring them together? E/R Enjolras/Grantaire
1. A New Home

**_Modern AU- Genderswapped Grantaire. _**

**_I do not own Les Miserables or any of Victor Hugo's characters_**

* * *

"Grantaire?" a voice asked.

Grantaire stood up as gracefully as she could with how sore she was.

"That's me," she said, turning. A dark, curly haired, young man stuck out his hand.

"Courfeyrac. I'm the guy interested in another housemate."

"Ah, finally," Grantaire with a smile.

"Yeah, sorry I'm late, my other housemate was going on and on about this girl he met and... well Marius is really nice but he just doesn't know when to shut up sometimes. Any way, so you're interested in sharing a house with two other bachelors?"

Grantaire smiled.

"Well I'd rather be a millionaire but that will never happen, so yeah."

"You said you're an artist? Are you going to Uni?"

"Yeah, well sort of. I've got one class, that I assist with, and I go to one other class but, yeah. I do art."

"Any good?" Courfeyrac asked. Grantaire gave a sharp laugh.

"Rule one of dealing with artists, don't ask if their any good. Most the time the best you'll get is, 'well I'm not _horrible_ but...' In my case, I typically try to avoid those questions."

"Oh, sorry. So here are the expenses you'll have to cover, it'll be easier having it split up among three people than it was when I paid for everything. But basically it's not much. Groceries, cable, help with the wifi, stuff like that. "

"Well, that's a lot cheaper than living by myself," Grantaire commented.

"Yeah, so what do you say?"

"I think I'm fine with it. You should know that I drink quite a bit, putting it mildly."

"That's fine. I drink myself so-"

"No, but, I drink a lot. Like I drink more wine than water."  
"Really, that's fine as long as you're not destructive and _constantly _bringing guys home."

"Okay... so um, when do you want me to move in?"

"We could do it today for all I care. I'm not very busy."

"That would actually be good, I get kicked out of my apartment tomorrow so, yeah."

"Couldn't meet the payments?"

"Too much money for the space I needed. Oh you don't mind if I get some paint on somethings right?" Grantaire asked, a bit concerned.

"Oh that's fine. The house is mine, I just needed some people to share it with."

"Great."

"Do you need help moving your stuff?"

"Eh, it's mostly in boxes from the last time I moved anyway, so it shouldn't take long. But I have gotten a few extra things since I first moved..." Grantaire mumbled to herself, "That would be great, I don't think I can fit everything in my car."

"Okay, we can go now if you want. By the way, you aren't bothered by gay people are you?"

"No I'm not, and yeah, that's great. It shouldn't take long."

It didn't.

Nor did it take long to unload at Courfeyrac's house, which was considerably bigger than Grantaire expected. Like, small mansion size.

"Are you sure I should be paying more?" she asked.

"Yeah, its fine, I might be getting a few more mates to come live here too, so yeah."

"Okay..."

As soon as they were through the door, they heard a clatter/crash like noise.

"Oops, sorry," a kind, young voice mumbled from another room.

"Marius Pontmercy, you didn't just break my mum's vase did you?"

"Courf! You're home!" A young man appeared in the main hall, he had light auburn hair and freckles all over his nose, and he was lanky.

"The vase?"

"Oh, no the vase is fine. I just bumped a bowl and it and it's contents kind of hit the floor. Ooh is this the lady you were talking about? The artist? Nice to meet you, I'm Marius," The young man energetically walked over and shook Grantaire's hand, despite that she was holding a box.

"Grantaire," she replied quietly.

"Would you like some help bringing in your things mademoiselle?" Marius asked.

"No, _merci_, but I think that you should probably clean up your mess?"

"Oh yes, of course," Marius said practically floating away.

Grantaire looked at Courfeyrac who gave her a smile and a shrug.

"He's not always like this, but you learn to appreciate this mood over his depressed one."

"Is he bipolar?"

"No no, that's not it. It's just that most of the time he's happy go lucky, sometimes he's like this, and other times he's the most cynical person I've met."

"You haven't spent much time with me yet," Grantaire said with a smile. Courfeyrac just smiled and went back outside to get some more of her stuff.

After they had gotten her stuff inside, Courfeyrac showed her where her room would be on the third floor. It was a spacious forest green bedroom with a queen sized bed, a couch, a desk, a TV, and it's own bathroom, complete with shower.

"I feel like the amount I payed for my old apartment each month would be enough to pay for this room for a few days," Grantaire commented.

"It's not that bad, I really don't have to pay that much for the house because it was mostly paid off by my parents. I just pay for the electricity and stuff," Courfeyrac explained dropping a few boxes on her bed.

"If you're really paranoid about your painting and stuff, there's a stairwell at the end of the hall which leads up to the attic, which is there for your use."

"This is way too much," Grantaire said turning to look at Courfeyrac, "You don't even know me."

"Please don't insult me mademoiselle. After seeing some of your paintings, I am honored to have such an artist in my home."

Grantaire opened her mouth to argue, but closed it out of respect for her the man who was giving her more than her money's worth.

"You might also be called upon to cook and clean. We don't have a cook, but the maid gets every Thursday and Friday off."

"You have a maid?" Grantaire asked, disbelief showing on her face. Courfeyrac was half way out the door but he smiled and rolled his eyes.

"Puh-leeze, I may be a gay bachelor, but I'm a rich bachelor. There's no way in hell I'm gonna clean this whole house myself."

With that, Courfeyrac left Grantaire in the huge and beautiful room, with her stuff and her thoughts. She took a deep breath and started putting clothes in drawers.


	2. Meeting Apollo

She'd been living with Courfeyrac and Marius for a few days when they finally brought home a few friends.

The first one was Combeferre, a kind, blonde haired man with glasses, full arm sleeve tattoos, and a bunch of bracelets. He was dressed nicely enough, like a professional man but with his sleeves rolled up and his tie askew. He was very smart and was apparently at University for law or psychology or something (Courf couldn't remember what).

The second was another guy named Jean Prouvaire, but everybody called him Jehan. Grantaire determined that Courfeyrac was rather infatuated by Jehan and she could see why. Jehan was this weird mixture of feminine and masculine. Feminine in nature, genteelness, and a bit in the face, but masculine in most of his physical appearance. He seemed rather eccentric in speech and dress, but his eccentricities in speech was later explained by Courfeyrac as him being a poet. Grantaire decided that she rather liked Jehan, despite his inability to be pessimistic.

She actually knew one of the friends they brought over, he was an old friend and was in the art class that she assistant taught.

"Feuilly!" she exclaimed when she saw him. She got up and gave him a hug.

"Grantaire, I didn't know that you knew Courf and Marius."

"Well I kind of am living with them right now."

"Oh really? So you're their new house mate? I didn't know that."

"Yeah."

"Are they bringing you to the club meeting tomorrow?"

Grantaire looked at Marius who shrugged.

"We hadn't gotten around to asking her yet," he said.

"Ah, mon ami, you should come. E loves it when we bring new people for him to integrate into his system. Although I'm not sure that you'd like him much."

"Why not?"

"He's rather... passionate about his causes. Very much into the 'I can change the world' mindset."

"Ah, and so you believe that me and all my cynicism won't get along well with him," Grantaire said.

"Yeah. But I'm sure it would never hurt to try. It's at the Musain, a cafe by day and bar at night," Feuilly said.

"Ah, bars, my favorite locations," she replied, "We'll see."

She ended up going. Completely expecting to be bored, she brought her sketchbook.

She didn't expect to walk in the door with Courfeyrac and Marius and be confronted by the incarnation of the Greek god Apollo.

Standing there, seemingly glowing, was a man, tall and skinny but muscular, with golden locks that crowned his head. His features were stern, a sharp nose, a noble jaw, lips pressed into a frown that seemed almost intoxicating, but most noticeable was his blue eyes, alight with fiery passion.

Grantaire felt like she couldn't breathe, she stopped just inside the door. Marius, who'd been walking behind her, bumped into her.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, I just..."

"It's okay, they're really nice," Marius encouraged, mistaking her trailing off for nervousness. Grantaire noticed that everyone was staring. Everyone. She dropped her eyes to the floor.

"I need a drink," She growled.

"Um... okay?" Marius said shifting awkwardly, "Eponine's over there, she'll help you."

"Thanks," Grantaire muttered. She walked, head tucked, over to the bar and ordered a beer to start out with.

Eponine smiled at her and she sensed a kindred spirit.

"On the house," she said when Grantaire started to shuffle through her money.

"Please no," Grantaire said, looking up, "I don't need any more charity. Courfeyrac is barely letting me pay for anything let alone what the rents actually worth. Just let me pay."

Eponine pressed her lips together but nodded. Then Grantaire realized that everybody heard her outburst since they'd gone so quiet when she'd come in. She blushed and quickly took her beer from Eponine and hurried back to Marius, red faced.

Then, thank god for him, Jehan got up and came over and gave her a hug.

"It's great to see you again mademoiselle. I'm glad that you came to our humble congregation. How are you today?" he asked.

"I'm, um, a little too sober I think."

"Sobriety does not agree with you?"

"People don't agree with me when I'm sober," Grantaire said, sneaking a look around the room, lingering maybe a bit too long on Apollo.

"I see, perhaps you are a bit uncomfortable among strangers. We are all good friends and you are not yet part of us. I can understand how one would feel uncomfortable when faced with a room full of people she barely knows. But not to worry, mademoiselle, we are good people and very accepting."

"Definitely too sober," Grantaire muttered to herself. Marius frowned at her.

"Well, gentlemen," Apollo spoke, Grantaire was enthralled with his voice, "you've interrupted our meeting. Mind telling us why and who your friend is?"

"Sorry Enjolras," Courfeyrac said, he stroke a pose, "I just couldn't decide what to wear."

"He's kidding," Marius said, rolling his eyes, "We had to take a bit extra time to convince R to come. Everyone, this is Grantaire. She's an artist, I believe you said you're going to Uni?" Marius asked her. She nodded and took a large drink of beer, "In any case, she's living with Courf and I. So we thought it would be good to bring her and introduce her to the rest of you who haven't already met her."

"Well, who have you met?" Enjolras asked her. She took a quick drink of beer, which she noticed Enjolras scowl at.

"A lovely gentleman named Combeferre. A poet named Jehan. And a worthless artist named Feuilly."

"You're just jealous," Feuilly said, suddenly appearing, ruffling her hair, and kissing her on the cheek, "Sorry I'm late. Project to finish."

"Ha you mean that piece of trash you were supposed to do?" Grantaire laughed, taking a swig of her beer.

"Hardy har har," Feuilly said sarcastically, "You wish you were that good."

"Please," she scoffed, "with the assignment she gave you guys? I'd rather tear my eyes out."

"Yeah, well don't forget, I've seen your art when you were way too sober. Speaking of sober, how much alcohol have you consumed today?"

"Ugh, only a bottle of wine and this beer."

"Mon dieu," Feuilly exclaimed playfully, "Eponine! Get me a glass of your strongest for Miss Grantaire here. She's not nearly drunk enough to be any fun."

"You're an asshole Feuilly."

"I try Mon Amour," Feuilly said, giving her a wink. Grantaire rolled her eyes.

"You're impossible," Grantaire said.

"I thought I was an asshole."

"You are. But you are also impossible."

"So I'm an impossible asshole? Sounds like you're describing yourself 'Taire," Feuilly said with another wink before sauntering off.

Eponine sat a drink in front of her.

"I figured you'd need it with how much of an ass Feuilly was being."

"Thanks."

"Well," Enjolras cleared his throat, not used to Feuilly stealing his spotlight, "I'm Enjolras."

Everyone proceeded to rattle off names, Grantaire only caught about half of them.

"This is Bahorel," Feuilly said, pulling over another man whose name she hadn't caught, "He's my partner."

"Aww and you made me feel so special. Jerk," Grantaire fake pouted. That's when she noticed Enjolras watching her.

"I think your fearless leader is getting rather restless messieurs," she finally said with a wink, "Go be bisexual somewhere where you don't interrupt the meeting." Feuilly winked at her and led Bahorel over to another table.

"If we can start now," Enjolras said, irritated. Grantaire took a drink of whatever Eponine gave her and nodded.

Enjolras then started on a rant about the evils of large corporation companies.

Grantaire sketched him.

Later, when they got home, Grantaire dropped her notebook and Marius picked it up. His eyes grew wide and his cheeks went pink. His eyes danced from the page somewhere else and back again. Like he didn't want to look but he couldn't help himself.

"This is-" He coughed, ears red, "very good."

Grantaire wondered which one had him flustered. But just as she was about to grab it, Courfeyrac snatched it.

"Ooh la la, Mon Cheri, you have a talent of the pencil."

"Which one are you looking at!?"

"_Which one_? There are multiple?"

Grantaire guessed it was one of her sketches that involved less-than-dressed women.

"Oh Mon Cher. You are very good," Courfeyrac said flipping through the pages. Then he stopped.

"Did you do this tonight?"

"Yeah," Grantaire said, scratching her neck.

"It's good. But don't let Enjolras ever see it."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure what he'd to if he found out that you were drawing instead of paying attention to his rant," Courf said, finally handing it back to her.

"That's why he won't find out," she said. Snapping the book closed she gave a haughty laugh, "If I ever go back I'll surprised."


	3. A Visit and A Job

1 Month Later-

Grantaire practically danced through the house. Marius and Courfeyrac were out and she had the house completely to herself since it was the maid's day off. She was blasting her favorite music and painting a picture of the door way in the grand hall because the light was fantastic. She was taking a large swig of a bottle of wine when the door opened.

"Can you not?" she said, without even looking, she had a just put a paint brush in the side of her mouth. The door shut.

"I thought you were going to be gone all day," She said, still not looking.

"Well, I would wonder how you would know anything about my day," a majestic voice said, "but I'll just assume you were talking to someone else."

Grantaire stuck her head around the canvas and saw Enjolras. Her eyes got wide. She had paintbrushes behind both ears and a paint brush.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, she ducked behind her canvas again and removed as many of the paintbrushes she could remember, forgetting the one shed placed inside her messy bun.

That done she quickly moved around to greet Enjolras.

"Hi. Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone."

"And yet, the door was unlocked."  
"Courfeyrac," Was all she said. She wiped her hands on her paint stained jeans, regretting her decision to only wear her ripped, paint jeans and a green cami.

"Ah well, he is rather trusting of humanity," Enjolras said with a small smile.

"Foolish thing to trust in if you ask me," she returned.

"That's rather cynical. A little trust is necessary for humanity to improve."

"Well I've never seen much improvements in my life," Grantaire said, deciding that the best course of action to keep her ability to speak was to go back to her closed off painting, she moved behind the canvas and picked up a brush.

"So that causes you to believe that it's impossible for society to change?" Enjolras questioned, moving to see her better, it rubbed him the wrong way how she chose to ignore him.

"I choose to believe that until there is actual proof of a change in society that it won't happen," Grantaire said leaning forward and adding some more paint to the canvas. Enjolras was even more irritated now.

"But if people are like you and believe things like that, then nothing will ever change."

"Hmm but then there are the people like you Apollo."

"Excuse me?"

"Apollo. Greek god. Son of Zeus, twin brother of Artemis. He was an archer, the god of music, healing, light, and truth. It was his duty to ride his golden chariot across the sky to move the sun," Grantaire said as she continued painting.

"Okay? And why are you calling me Apollo?"

"Because, my dear Greek god, you are the human incarnation of Apollo, I'm sure of it."

"I can assure you that I'm not."

"Alas, and to think I'd finally found a god to follow," Grantaire said sarcastically. Finally, Enjolras moved to see what she was painting and stopped.

"That's beautiful," he said breathlessly.

"Nah," was all she said. Enjolras looked at her and shook his head.

"It is."

"It's not done yet. As far as I'm concerned, it will never be done."

"Why not?"

"Because, I'm and artist. An artist's work is never done."

"That's how a revolutionist is."

"Except that a revolutionist is constantly trying to fix the same things because humanity always falls back."

"Again. A rather cynical statement."

"I'm a rather cynical person," Grantaire said still painting.

"Do you ever get paid to do paintings?"

"Sometimes. Not often enough that I could live on it."

"What if there was something I wanted to you to paint?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck.

"You would ask and I would ask how much you want to pay for it."

"And then?"

"I'd say sure. Because I need money."

"What if there was a painting that I needed made for something special?"

"Same deal."

"And it had to be very specific."

"You'd have to be very specific," Grantaire said. Finally she stepped back, "I think that's good enough."

"Good enough? Mon Dieu, that's magnificent."

"Then take it. Ten bucks and its yours."

"Twenty."

Grantaire looked at him.

"Ten."

"Thirty. Trust me I won't go lower."

"Fifteen."

"Forty."

"God damn it. It's not worth forty."

"Yes it is. In fact it's worth closer to $400," Enjolras said. He pulled out his wallet.

"NO nonononnono," Grantaire said as she backed away, hands up. Her face paled as she looked at the money.

"No," she said firmly. Enjolras raised an eyebrow at her.

"Fine. $400 for this painting and another one that I want done."

"I can't-"

"You're supposed to say sure," Enjolras said with a smirk. Grantaire pressed her lips together.

"You see, this painting is going to be for a child's foundation that is opening in a few weeks. The others and I have been helping get this thing started, and I want a painting made to commemorate the occasion. It needs to be big. What's the biggest canvas you have?"

"I don't know. I was going to go shopping the next time I got paid. I might have a 20x20," she said, crossing her arms.

"Which is how big?"

"It's a square with a 400 inch area," Grantaire said, rolling her eyes.

"Okay is that a really big one?" Enjolras asked.

"You really know nothing about art do you?"

"I'm a politics major," he replied, absentmindedly playing with some of her clean brushes. Grantaire sighed and pushed a stray, black curl out of her face with the side of her hand, she had paint on her fingers. She suspected that she still managed to get paint on her forehead because Enjolras smiled while looking at the top of her head.

"I would suggest, if you want a really large canvas, that you have me get a 36x48. It does cost more but it's a really large canvas."

"Okay," Enjolras said slowly. Grantaire suddenly turned into a business woman and started talking about numbers and such, mostly to herself.

"A 36x48 would cost about $100 at my normal place, plus the cost of paint since I'm low would figure to anywhere from $100 to $200, add that to the cost of time spent on the painting and the cost of talent... that painting alone should cost $400," She was saying to herself, right hand over her mouth in a thinking stance.

"So what about $500?" Enjolras asked. Grantaire looked over at him as if she'd forgotten he was there.

"$500 for the painting I'm ordering and this one," Enjolras clarified, motioning to the painting that Grantaire had just finished.

"Fine. But I owe you a drink sometime," Grantaire said, making a hand motion as if she were dismissing some thought.

"Is that a promise?" Enjolras asked. Grantaire looked up at him, she paled slightly.

"Um... I don't know," She stuttered. Enjolras was confused by her reaction. They stood there in awkward silence for a little while, Grantaire's music was playing "Once Upon A Dream," by Lana Del Rey. Grantaire suddenly jerked away towards another room. Enjolras followed her, curious. She was mumbling something to herself.

She speed walked to the stairs in the hall and took them, two steps at a time, up to the third floor. Then she walked down another hallway to another set of stairs and followed those up to the attic. Enjolras followed her.

Enjolras was winded by the time he got up to the top. Grantaire was breathing heavy but seemed focused on something else.

"I'll need a picture, a big one. Not quite as big as the canvas of course, but big enough to get the details big," She said, half to him half to herself. Quickly she poured herself a drink from a bottle of wine sitting on a box. Then she moved to the window and pulled the curtain to the side, she repeated this action with the two other windows.

"The light's good, if I need another light fixture, I can always ask Feuilly. He keeps some on hand when he's painting his fans," this time it was obvious to Enjolras that he was just something for Grantaire's voice to bounce off, "Of course, I'd need to allow time for eating and sleeping, but I can do that while the paint dries. I might want to take some extra time to- no I need to see what the picture is like before I- but it doesn't hurt to plan ahead- except that I- well actually I might not..." Finally Grantaire looked over at him.

"I need a picture before anything else," She said firmly. She moved past him, refilled her glass of wine and exited the attic. He frowned, while he'd been there, he'd seen her consume the equivalent of four glasses of wine.

He followed Grantaire down the three flights of stairs and into the sitting room. She sat and looked at him.

"Why did you come here in the first place?"

"Three things," Enjolras said, almost surprised she was asking, "Marius had borrowed a book of mine on the battle of Waterloo-"

"Oh I know where that is," Grantaire interrupted.

"Oh, good. Second was too ask you about the painting. I'd originally planned on asking Feuilly or a professional to do it but after talking to Feuilly, he said that you were slightly less busy than he, and that you were better. Third I wanted to ask Courfeyrac something. I didn't know he was out today," Enjolras explained. Grantaire took a drink of her wine before setting it down and getting up.

"I'll get your book."

"Well I didn't know whether he was done wi-"

"He is. He was actually telling me before he left this morning that he needed to get that back to you."

When she returned with it, Enjolras was looking through her sketchbook, she felt a sudden bit of panic.

"Um," She cleared her throat loudly, Enjolras looked up at her before looking back down at her sketchbook, "I brought you your, uh, your book."

"Thank you."

"Can I take a message for Courf?"

"Mm I was just going to ask him about the rally for this weekend."

"What's it about?"

"It's a rally for a little girl fighting a disease that's never really been investigated. We're rallying to raise awareness for the disease."

"Hmm," Grantaire hummed, bouncing nervously as Enjolras immediately went back to flipping through her sketches after explaining everything. She loved the look of passion he got when talking about the rally.

"Would you like a drink?" she asked.

"No thank you."

Grantaire quickly set his book in front of him on the coffee table and left the room, he was getting dangerously close to the sketch of him and she hoped that by her leaving, he would feel like he should too.

She checked her painting and added one last touch and her name at the bottom.

She went into the kitchen and poured herself a bit of scotch. She sat at the bar, thinking and drinking.

"Is this me?"

Grantaire turned to look and saw Enjolras pointing at the sketch she'd made at the meeting. It was of him, but dressed in Greek tunics, bow raised.

She nodded and took another sip of the scotch. Enjolras frowned at the scotch then looked back at the sketch.

"When did you do it?"

"After I met you, obviously," she said vaguely.

"It's... um, flattering."

"Yeah well, glad you're flattered by it," she muttered before taking another drink.

"Why do you drink so much?"

"Because I can."

"Why waste you're money on alcohol when you could use it to further good causes?"

"Because I find that I'm a lot better of a person when the terrible, ugly, human race around me, is blurred by the sweet, loving embrace of the bottle."

"The human race isn't ugly," Enjolras said, angrily.

"You're right," Grantaire said, standing up and downing the last bit of scotch, "It's not. It's cancer. Trying to live by killing everything good around it. It eats and feeds and kills and sickens the beautiful creation around because it wants to live. Because it's just superior enough that it can do it."

"That's a rather cruel way to view things," Enjolras said coldly.

"The universe is cruel. Humanity is cruel. Kudos to you if you can fix that," Grantaire bit out sharply. Enjolras set his jaw but shook his head.

"You mock my cause?" he suggested angrily.

"I don't mock your cause. I wouldn't dare. No I just choose to have a realistic realization of reality that you hold a rally in a public place to raise awareness for something and most people will just drive by and forget about it. Because that's what people do. They say, 'oh yeah, that's a good cause. I'm glad someone's doing something about it, I hope they do well,' but then they forget about it and it ends up all for naught," Grantaire ranted.

"That's why the Les Amis De ABC are here," Enjolras practically shouted, throwing his hands in the air, eyes flashing with passion, "Because people don't do anything about these good causes around them. Because they say, 'oh good I hope they do well' and forget. Because someone needs to remember. Because someone needs to try. If nobody tries than all you get is 'oh that's nice' and nothing comes from it," Enjolras started pacing back and forth, moving his hands and head as he talked. Grantaire watched in awe, "Because the truth of society is that if someone doesn't take initiative and start a good cause, nobody will. That's what our group is for, to take initiative with the goal of changing society. Because we believe that it's possible to change."

As his rant slowed down his conviction and passion didn't. Grantaire just gazed at him as if in a vision. Finally he was finished and he looked at her.

"What?"

"I can see why they follow you," She said slowly, "If I were a changeable woman, I would trust you to start that change."

"You may yet."

"Nah," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. Enjolras opened his mouth to reply when his phone went off. He pulled it out and read a message.

In that time Grantaire had poured herself another glass of wine. He looked back up at her and frowned.

"I have to go. Combeferre needs my help with something."

"It's all fine. The painting's not done drying yet. But I can have it delivered."

"Just bring it to the next meeting," Enjolras said walking out of the kitchen and into the Main hall. Grantaire followed him to the door.  
"I'll get you that picture," he said as he was about out the door, "Good day mademoiselle."

"Monsieur," Grantaire said by way of good bye. He gave her a nod and left, closing the door on the way out.

Her dreams featured Apollo that night.


	4. Texts Concerning R

_Hey E? Ya um... what have you done?- Courf_

_What do you mean?-E_

_Taire hasn't left the attic for 8 hours- Courf_

_Oh, she's doing a painting for the foundation- E_

_Well she was supposed to cook supper tonight but when I asked her what she was making, she told me to "fuck off which ever one of you it is. I'm painting."- Courf_

_So? She's working hard I guess. It's hardly my fault- E_

* * *

_Any chance you know what's wrong with Taire?- Ferre_

_Mon Dieu! She's doing a painting for the kids foundation opening- E_

_Alright, alright, no need to get huffy. She only just threw a __**full**__ bottle of wine at me. So naturally I'm concerned about her mental health and all of ours physical safety- Ferre_

* * *

_Pretty sure that it's not sanitary or healthy for Grantaire to go this long without eat, sleep, or a shower. I've been over here for 5 hours and Courf says that she's been like this for over 20 hours- Joly_

_I told her to do it on her own time okay? It's not my fault that she's being so obsessive about it!- E_

_Just saying man, but it's not safe for someone to inhale acrylic gasses for that long- Joly_

_Then __**you**__ go tell her that- E_

_Not a good idea. She threw food at Courf. We may need a psychiatrist- Joly_

_Just let her work. It's for a good cause. And quite possibly the only thing she'll do for a good cause- E_

* * *

_Dude, 32 hours sober. This is dangerous for her health- F_

_Dammit why are you guys bothering me about this?! I've got to plan for the opening. Just let her finish and buy her a drink then. It's probably good that she's sober. At least she backed off of being a winecask for the time- E_

_Is that the only thing you can say for a girl who gave up her hamartia to spend 32 hours in acrylic fumes for a goddamn painting?- F_

_Feuilly, she's an artist. She's used to it I'm sure- E_

_Just saying man, you might be a bit more appreciative about it- F_

_I'm paying her to do it- E_

_So?- F_

_So, it's not like she's making a huge sacrifice- E_

* * *

_Quick question, do you want the birds in the painting? I just thought about that, there are some birds in the picture and, not that they take anything away from it, but they're a bit blurry and kinda look more like dark splotches. I can make them actually look like birds if you want- G_

_I'll leave it to your artistic discretion- E_

_Update: I choose to make them look like birds. I'd expect only one day more if I don't make any mistakes- G_

_Shit. Make that two days- G_

* * *

_This is unhealthy man- M_

_Isn't she done yet?- E_

_I just heard screaming. I think that I should go investigate- M_

_I'll take that as a no. What happened?- E_

_Marius?- E_

_Walking up to the attic now. Armed with coffee and a sandwich- M_

_Update: About to approach G. Pray for me- M_

_God isn't real- E_

_About to enter- M_

_Hasn't thrown anything yet- M_

_Accepted offerings of peace- M_

_Apparently the lighting on one child's head is off "a bit" and so she has to re-do it. It looks amazing to me- M_

_G is getting irritated. Making a hasty retreat- M_

_Update: She threw a jar of paint at me. Now I have to wash black paint out of my hair- M_

_Courf came home. G screamed again. It sounds like a pirate- M_

_I take it that Grantaire isn't going to come to the rally tomorrow morning?- E_

_There's a rally tomorrow?- M_

_Yes there's a rally tomorrow! You forgot!?- E_

_Courf and I have been busy trying to get G to consume at least one drink of liquid and an object of sustenance per every four hours. Rallies haven't been at the forefront of our mind- M_

_It's important!- E_

_We're having a meeting tonight!- E_

_Courf and I aren't coming. We've vowed not to leave Grantaire alone in the house while she's working on this project so Courf's staying home and I'm having dinner at Cosette's tonight.- M_

_Who cares about Cosette, Marius!? We've got an important goal to strive toward- E_

_Shit. G just appeared, has collapsed onto Courf's lap. I think she's sobbing- M_

_Um, is it normal for artists to sob when they're done?- M_

_Why the hell are you asking me? I'm working on a politics essay- E_

_Right, in other words you don't care?- M_

_I care. Some- E_

_Oh god.- M_

_Joly says that this isn't healthy- M_

_Grantaire. Not you. You're acting perfectly normal- M_

_Courf and I are scared now. I think she's unconcious- M_

_Okay, well I hope that she feels better. I got a meeting to go to- E_

_LIKE HELL YOU DO! GET YOUR FUCKING ASS OVER HERE ENJOLRAS I HAVE AN UNCONCIOUS ARTIST WHO JUST GOT DONE CRYING HER FUCKING EYES OUT ON MY LAP IF YOU AREN'T OVER HERE IN 5 FUCKING MINUTES THEN I'M NEVER COMING TO ANY MEETINGS AGAIN YOU IGNORANT ASSHOLE- M_

_Sorry, that was Courf. But I agree with almost every thing he said- M_

_Fine. I'm on my way- E_


	5. Withdrawal

Marius told Courfeyrac that Enjolras was coming.

"Good."

"Did you have to curse so many times?"

"Yes. It felt good to get that out."

"Do you think she's alright?" Marius asked, putting a hand on Grantaire's cheek.

"I don't know."

Ding dong.

"That should be Enjolras," Courfeyrac said nodding towards the hall. Marius went and opened it and there indeed was their fearless leader, hair a mess, looking unimpressed.

No words were said. Marius just turned away and left the door open. Enjolras bit the inside of his cheek and followed, closing the door.

"I called Combeferre and Joly. They're both coming," Enjolras finally said as he stood in the doorway to the sitting room.

Courfeyrac was sitting on the loveseat. Grantaire's body was sort of wrapped around him, her right arm was thrown over one shoulder and she had buried her face into his shoulder, her left arm wrapped around his abdomen. Courfeyrac looked a combination of concerned and mad.

Concerned for Grantaire. Mad at Enjolras.

"She didn't even say anything," Marius said after a little while, "Courf was sitting there watching TV and she just burst into the room, tears streaming down her face, and curled up on him like that and started sobbing. Then she just kind of stopped."

"Is she breathing?"

"Yeah. I think so," Courf finally said. He was definitely pissed at Enjolras.

"Have you tried to wake her?"

"I've talked to her."

"She replied?"

"No. I guess I should say I talked at her."

"What happened? Do you know?" Enjolras asked as he took his jacket off.

"No. I had Marius go upstairs to see if she messed up or something."

"And?"

"Nothing," Marius sighed, "It looked amazing. It looked better than the picture."

Ding dong ding dong

Marius went to open up the door and Joly, Combeferre, and Jehan came in. Joly quickly brushed past Enjolras and felt for a pulse on Grantaire.

"Pulse. Good. Breathing. Good. She's warm. Good. A little clammy."

"She was crying remember."

"No this is a cold clammy. Like the rest of her is warm, but her hand is clammy. Feels like a fever," Joly said, holding a hand to her forehead.

"How was she acting before she passed out?" Ferre asked.

"She was crying."

"How hard?"

"Body racking sobs."

"I see. Did she say anything."

"Nothing. She just cried."

"Okay what about the painting?"

"Already asked about that," Enjolras finally spoke, "Marius said it looked perfect."

"Hm, what was her behavior like today?"

Courf looked at Marius.

"Um, she was irritable, she kept screaming at something. Not like a scared scream but an angry scream. She didn't eat the food I brought her. She may have taken a sip of the coffee. The wine was untouched. She came down once this morning and ate a piece of toast, she complained of a headache. I told her to go to sleep but she said it was fine she'd just take an Advil and go back to painting. Except for the screaming, that started at about three this afternoon, she's been pretty quiet all day. She told me she took a shower, which I think is the most non-painting-related thing she's done for the past 48 hours," Marius said, then he shrugged, "I think that's it."

"Interesting."

"I think we can wake her up," said Joly, "but we should carry her up to her room first."

Courfeyrac put his arms under her and picked her up without any help.

"Isn't that hard?" Jehan asked, it was the first thing he'd said.

"She hasn't been eating," Courf said, "She's lost more weight in more time than what is healthy."

"I'd say," Joly agreed.

Courf carried Grantaire all the way up to her room on the third floor. He laid her down in bed and waited for Joly who was looking at his phone.

"I'd suggest having Jehan wake her up," Combeferre said as Joly reached forward to shake Grantaire.

"Why?"

"She told me the other day how much she loves Jehan. She said that he reminds her of a spider's web, fragile, delicate, intricate, and beautiful. Her behavior is spontaneous and irrational, I'd guess that seeing you guys wouldn't give her a reason to act any differently, and she might react violently or irrationally, but if she sees Jehan, then she might find a reason to get control of herself to protect him."

"What are you saying?" Courfeyrac asked, standing up, "Are you saying that she's fucking mental?"

"Calm down Courf," Marius said quietly.

"I will not calm down!" Courfeyrac whisper shouted, "Ruelle Grantaire is not fucking mental. She's a rock. Ever logical and realistic. She's the least likely person to be mental in the history of such."

"Courf, it could happen to anybody. I talked to Feuilly, he said that she has to take weeks off every so often. No body knows why, but he said that one week, she was acting depressed in class and then she wasn't there the next week. For all we know she could be bipolar."

"No. She's not. She hasn't had any high highs or low lows or anything while she's been here."

"Let's just have Jehan wake her up," Enjolras finally interrupted, "Get it over with."

Courfeyrac finally nodded before turning away and running his hands through his hair.

Jehan sat down on the side of the bed and took Grantaire's hand.

"Grantaire," He said softly, gently shaking her shoulder, "Hey, it's Jehan. Wake up."

"gngh mfflbte," came out of Grantaire's mouth.

"Hey, hey, it's me. Jehan. Wake up carefully, you're in a room full of men and you don't want to embarrass yourself."

"Fikin ge ou," Grantaire said, jerking her hand away and rolling over.

"This isn't working," Courfeyrac leaned over to Combeferre and said.

"Give him a few more tries then you can do it your way."

"Hey, Taire? Listen I need to talk to you," Jehan said putting a hand on Grantaire's arm.

"Out," she said, word clear this time.

"Come on, wake up more. Please?"

"Ngh mmbimmbmm."

Jehan looked up at them, shrugged and stood up.

"Fine," Ferre said quietly. Courfeyrac went to the bed and sat down beside Grantaire. He motioned to Marius who did the same on the other side.

"Oh Danny boy, the pipes the pipes are calling," they started singing together quietly, "from glen to glen and down the mountain side," They slowly got louder, Grantaire tried to curl up into herself, but Marius was too close to allow that, "The summers gone, and all the roses are falling, its you, its you must go and I must bide."

"FINE!" Grantaire finally said, "I'll fucking wake up. Leave me alone."

"But come ye back, when summer's in the meadow, or the valley's hushed and white with snow," they kept singing. Everybody wondered whether this was something they did often, "And I'll be here, in sunshine or in shadow."

"Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so," Grantaire finished elbowing Courfeyrac hard, "I get it. I'm up. What the hell do you want?"

"You came downstairs, threw yourself onto me, and started sobbing before passing out," Courfeyrac said bluntly. Grantaire sat up and looked at him.

"Shit," She muttered rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"What happened?" Ferre asked.

"shit shit shit shit shit shit shit," Grantaire chanted as she stood up in the bed, leapt off of it, and rushed out of the room.

She then ran down the hall and up the stairs. Enjolras was closest to her so he followed most closely.

"No no no no no no no no no no, NO. Agh!" Grantaire was checking her painting. Enjolras moved so he could get a good look at it and froze.

It was perfect.

Grantaire was getting out some paintbrushes.

"Stop," he commanded, Grantaire froze at the commanding sound of his voice.

"I was just gonna-"

"No. This. This is what I want. No better."

"But the-"

"Nope. I don't care if you forgot a detail or something is the wrong shade," Enjolras said, "This right here is perfect. It's exactly what I want," he turned to Grantaire and smiled, "Thank you."

Then he noticed she was shaking, but he wasn't going to point it out so he walked over and enveloped her in a hug.

"Thank you," he whispered in her ear, "now how about that drink?"

He'd figured out what it was.

She was suffering withdrawal from alcohol without adequate sustenance.

He led her downstairs, into the kitchen. As he passed by Courfeyrac he suggested that Courf go to the meeting and explain what happened. As he passed Marius he reminded him of his dinner with Cosette. As he passed Jehan he smiled. For Combeferre he told him to go home. And for Joly had ruffled his hair and told him it was withdrawal. Joly agreed with his analysis and told him the best thing to do.

Soon the house was empty except for Grantaire and Enjolras.

Enjolras poured them both glasses of wine and heated up some food. He then told her that it was withdrawal and she said that she'd gone through it before and thought she could handle it, but kept forgetting to take care of herself.

"Now I think you owe me two drinks for having to put up with all this," Enjolras said before taking a drink of wine.

"Deal," Grantaire said, then she took a sip of her own wine, "damn that tastes good."

"Yeah..."

"So, it's really what you wanted?"

"Yes. What was wrong with it in the first place?"

"One of the birds was a black bird when I'd meant to make it a starling," Grantaire said, blushing.

"You got very involved didn't you?"

"I wanted to please you," she said quickly, "to do my very best. To raise your opinions of me. I know that with the drinking and cynical nature you don't think much about me. I guess I wanted to change that. But I kept messing up, and I thought that I'd never get it perfect. Then I had messed up the lighting on one kid's hair and by the time I had that as perfect as I could I realized that I'd painted the wrong birds in the wrong places, and I was shaking and not thinking well and emotional. All I could think about was that nothing I could do was perfect. I was innately imperfect. That I could never please a god like you. I was upset and so as I left the attic I just kept seeing all these nice things and how Courfeyrac is practically giving them to me when I don't deserve it. So I started crying. Then when Courf and Marius tried to comfort me, I couldn't stop."

"Withdrawal plus the inability to see self worth plus one tiny mistake equals emotional break down?" Enjolras questioned.

"I guess I'm just passionate about my work," she replied sheepishly. Enjolras smiled.

"That sounds like someone else I know."

"Yeah..."

"For the record. I do think about you. I have a high opinion of your opinions, since they're usually good points."

"Ah I suppose if that's all the god of sunshine knows me for... I'll have to accept it."

"And you're crazy talented. And you're right, I don't like the drinking, but it's part of who you are, which I like over all," Enjolras admitted, but then he couldn't seem to stop himself, "And you're smart, and kind, and loving, and passionate, and beautiful, and-"

"You think I'm beautiful."

Enjolras blushed.

"Yeah."

Grantaire blushed.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."


	6. Knee

A few weeks later, Enjolras picked Grantaire up for their first real date. The opening ceremony for the foundation had been a huge success, and everybody praised Grantaire's painting. Grantaire was back to normal by then and blushed at every compliment she received. She even got a few clients that day too.

A few more weeks went by and Enjolras and Grantaire were out of the honeymoon dating stage and were back to arguing constantly about everything. The only difference being that Enjolras had moved in with them and every night, Enjolras and Grantaire would make up for the arguments.

Months later, Grantaire had slowly risen to a sort of celebrity status as a painter. Her paintings had a new life to them as Enjolras's passion for his causes were translated into her paintings based on those causes. She sold many cause-based paintings and raised lots of money for their causes. She'd finally found where she could help.

It made Enjolras love her even more, which is saying something.

One night, they were out on a date. Their actually dates had grown rarer as they spent more time working separately, side by side, but on the times that the actually went on dates, Enjolras didn't skimp on romance.

On this particular date, Enjolras had arranged, with the help of the Les Amis, a romantic candlelight dinner and dance in a park.

Jehan, who was a particularly good cook, help Courfeyrac and others to cook a delicious meal and set up the "atmosphere".

When Enjolras came to pick Grantaire up, he seemed particularly antsy.

"Hey," Grantaire greeted him with a kiss. She was wearing a dark green dress with silver details, it made her eyes lighter.

"Hi," Enjolras greeted back as he led her down to his car.

The ride to the park was not full with conversation.

"You're quiet," Grantaire mentioned.

"Yeah, sorry."

"No, it's fine, you're just not usually quiet. Like, almost never."

"Yeah," Enjolras said, absentmindedly. Grantaire sensed that there was something off, so she reached over to grab his hand. His hand was hot and sweaty.

"Is everything okay?"

"What? Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" Enjolras asked.

"Well, you're just acting funny that's all."

"Aren't I allowed to act funny? I thought you liked funny, that's why we're living with Courfeyrac remember?"

Grantaire laughed lightly.

"That's true," She agreed with a smile, she could feel Enjolras slowly loosening up.

"So I was thinking," Grantaire said, deciding to change subjects, "that I could do a painting of our group, to hang in the Musain."

"That would be nice."

"I think I would to it in red and black tones, you know?"

"Ooh, that sounds cool," Enjolras agreed.

"But at the same time, I was thinking that I have a canvas that's the perfect size for a good painting of the flag. I thought it would look nice in your study."

"What ever you choose to do," Enjolras said, looking over at her momentarily, "it will be perfect as usual."

Grantaire smiled softly and laid her head back on the headrest. She watched him, a fond expression on her face.

"Okay, what?" Enjolras asked, after a while of her watching him.

"What do you mean?"

"You're staring at me. That always means something."

Grantaire smiled and sighed a content sigh.

"I'm just think about how beautiful you are," She finally answered. Enjolras looked over at her for a moment and smiled.

"Of the two of us, I don't think that I'm the beautiful one."

Grantaire laughed softly.

"How oh how did I get so lucky?"

Enjolras looked over at her again, out of the corner of his eye.

"I wonder the same thing everyday."

"Except when your nose is buried in a politics book," Grantaire pointed out with a giggle.

"That's true, but then you come up to me and kiss my neck right where I love the sensation the most and I wonder, just how I managed to get you."

"You ranted on large corporations."

"I- really?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm..." Enjolras hummed and pulled into the park parking lot.

He jumped out and hurried to Grantaire's side to open the door. Grantaire looked around.

"Park."

"Observant tonight are we?"

"Shut up," she said with a smile, playfully hitting his arm.

He led her down a path, and as they rounded the corner Grantaire gasped.

"Enjolras, it's beautiful."

Enjolras smiled and led her towards the gazebo where Eponine stood, dressed in a pretty black dress and holding a bottle of wine.

"Welcome, Monsieur and Mademoiselle, to Chez Amore. Wine?" Eponine greeted as Enjolras pulled back the chair for Grantaire.

"Please," Enjolras said as he sat in his own chair. Eponine poured their wine and sat a basket of rolls in front of them.

"I will notify the cook that you are here," She said with a curtsy.

Enjolras and Grantaire talked of the day and Grantaire expressed her compliments on how beautiful everything was.

When the food got there, all Grantaire and Enjolras said was compliments on the food.

But after desert was when the magic happened.

"Mademoiselle? Would you care for a dance?" Enjolras asked with a deep bow, offering Grantaire his hand. Grantaire giggled before composing herself.

"I would be delighted, Monsieur."

Enjolras pulled her onto the makeshift dance floor and Courfeyrac started playing some romantic music. As they slow danced, Grantaire closed her eyes and felt such the warmth radiating off of Enjolras. She felt Enjolras's hand lift off her back for a moment, but thought nothing of it. At least, until Enjolras pulled away.

She looked at Enjolras quizzically.

And then Enjolras got on one knee.

* * *

_**A little happy tid bit. I'm not sure whether to end here or not though. Tell me what you want/think in the reviews!**_


	7. Apollo's Cynic

Grantaire bit her lip as she stared at herself in the mirror. She had bags under her eyes from all-nighters, her hair was a mess, she had- wait, was that food?- stuff on her shirt and face, and paint on most of the rest of her. Quite possibly, this was the worst state she'd been in in a while.

"Mon dieu," she muttered, "aren't I a looker today?" She turned around and looked at the baby sleeping in a carrier on the counter.

"You sure are a handful mon petit."

The baby did not respond.

Grantaire ran a hand through her tangled hair before picking the carrier up and carrying it with her into the loft.

She gave the babe a loving smile before turning to her painting.

She'd been in the middle of a portrait of a child when her son started crying rather loudly from the nursery down the hall where he was supposed to be sleeping.

Seven years ago, her and Enjolras got married. Seven years later, here she was, 29 years old, with a 5 year old, a 3 year old, and the 2 month old laying in the carrier near her.

"_hu hu whaaa" _the baby woke up and started crying again. Grantaire sighed and put down her paintbrush again.

"Hush hush, Branton, it's okay," Grantaire told the crying baby boy with his father's blonde hair.

Branton didn't like the smell of paint very much.

Grantaire carried him in one arm and the carrier with the other hand. She took him downstairs and plopped down on the couch, setting the carrier on the floor beside her.

"_Entendez-vous les gens chantent? Chanter la chanson des hommes en colère?"_ She sang softly as she ran her fingers through the baby's already thick, blonde curls.

At that moment she heard a little girl's squeals of delight and the chittery laughter of a toddler.

"Shh shh, be quiet, baby might be sleeping," Enjolras's voice said through the door.

The door opened and the 5 year old girl came skipping into view.

"Maman!" she squealed as she saw me.

"Hey princess! How was the park?"

"It was so much fun!" She laughed.

"Ma!" the 3 year old boy ran in on his chubby legs, black curls bouncing as he came.

"Roche! How's my big boy?" Grantaire cooed. Enjolras walked into view after hanging up the kids' jackets and smiled at her.

"Looks like someone didn't like his lunch today," he said with a smirk, he walked forward and kissed her on her forehead.

"Or his nap."

"That's nice."

"Not so much. I couldn't finish my painting."

"Want me to take him mon amour?"

"Could you?" Grantaire asked hopefully.

"Of course! And I've asked Courfeyrac to take the kids tonight so you and I can go out for dinner," Enjolras said with a suggestive look.

"Uncle Courfeyrac?!" Colette asked excitedly.

"Yes sweetie," Enjolras said.

"Yay! Imma put on my princess dress!" she squealed with laughter. Racing up the stairs to her bedroom.

Grantaire smiled sweetly as her husband rolled his eyes and muttered something about aristocratic society before taking the child from her arms and baby talking it.

"Come on Roche," she said, taking her three year old's hand and pulling him along, "let's dress you to go to Courf's."

She pulled him upstairs and he immediately ran and grabbed his red vest.

"I wanna be revouusionis mommy!"

"Are you sure? You're always a revolutionist Roche," Grantaire said gently.

"Yes yes yes!" the three year old responded, bouncing like a rabbit around the room.

"Okay... okay, calm down trouble maker," Grantaire laughed.

"Sing the song mommy?" Roche asked, looking up at her innocently. Grantaire sighed.

"_Entendez-vous les gens chantent? Chanter la chanson des hommes en colère._"

"It is the music of the people who will not be slaves again!" Colette came singing into the room, half dressed in her princess outfit.

"When the beating of your heart..."

"Echoes the beating of the drums!"

"There is a life about to start..."

"When tomorrow comes!" the five year old sang.

"Will you join in our coosade," the three year old joined in, putting on his vest and marching around the room.

"Who will come and stand with me?" Grantaire sang marching behind her young child.

"Beyond the barricade, is there a world you wish to see?"

"Will you join in the fight?"

"That will give you the right?"

"Too bee fweeeee!" Roche sang loudly.

They sang the chorus again, rather loudly and comically, before Grantaire made Colette go finish putting on her princess dress and finished dressing Roche.

_Ding dong ding dong_

"UNCLE COURFEYRAC!" Colette screamed from her room before rushing down the stairs.

"Mommy, piggy ride?" Roche requested.

Grantaire laughed and got down so her three year old could climb on her back. Then, after he'd wrapped his arms and legs around her, she grabbed his legs and went bouncing down the stairs, three year old screeching with delight.

Courfeyrac was had Colette up on his hip and Jehan was cooing at Branton.

"Uncle Couwf!" Roche exclaimed as if surprised at his appearance.

"Hey! How's my little revolutionary?"

"I good!" the little boy announced, sliding down Grantaire's back and trotting up to Courf.

Instructions were given and goodbyes were said and soon Courfeyrac and Jehan were off with three small children.

"Now," Enjolras purred, wrapping his arms around his wife, "how about we go take a shower so that you and I can go on our date?"

"How about we just stay home?"

"No can do," Enjolras said shaking his head with a smile, "We've got reservations and I booked us a hotel room."

Grantaire turned in his arms and put her own up on his shoulders.

"You've got this all planned out huh?"

"Oh yes."

"Well then," she said seductively, "lets go take a shower."

Later that night, as Enjolras and Grantaire cuddled on the bed in the hotel, Grantaire felt refreshed.

She laid her head on Enjolras's chest and kissed it.

"I love you so much."

"I love you too."

"I needed this," she admitted.

"I know," Enjolras replied, kissing the top of her head. He pulled the covers over them and turned off the light.

"I always know," he said.

"Ha, humble are we."

"Of course."

"Go to sleep Apollo," she mumbled against his warm chest. Enjolras stroked her hair with one hand and laid the other on her shoulder.

As he fell asleep. He knew that there was no one else he'd rather love. No one else he'd rather have three (albeit trying at times) wonderful children with.

His painter, his lover, his soulmate, his cynic.

The End.

* * *

_**Fin! That's all folks!**_


End file.
